Banks

During my early days in Gowrie there were two banks — the First National Bank where my father worked and the State Bank across the street on the south side. The National Bank was founded by Nils Lindquist and had been inherited by his two sons Frank and Arthur. Frank, the older son, was the president of the bank. Art’s position was less well defined, at least in my mind, perhaps he could be classified as a teller. My father was the bookkeeper. I can recall my father commenting on the day’s work, saying for example that he had had trouble with the trial balance at the end of the day.

The National Bank survived the Depression, partly because a local well-to-do farmer injected some capital into the business. Frank was on the conservative side in his outlook and this may have kept the bank in such shape that it could survive.

The State Bank failed. In a way it does survive in that in later years the National Bank forsook its original location and moved across the street into what was formerly the State Bank. Also Maurice Lindquist (Frank’s only child, a son, who eventually acquired the bank in toto, Art Jr. selling out I guess) changed the bank charter from national to state and it is now the Gowrie state bank. I think the old National Bank building now houses the resident lawyer in Gowrie (one Dean Erb). We have used his services on occasion in connection with the farm property we own in Iowa. Maurice’s son inherited the bank from his father, moved his residence to Gowrie and operated the bank for a while but I believe he later sold it to some regional bank.

At the original state bank, the bookkeeper (paralleling my father’s position) was Fred Magnusson. Fred’s oldest child was Harris who was my age and was in my class at school until he was kept back a grade. Harris and I spent a good bit of time together mostly in connection with the paper route he had for the Des Moines Tribune. The Tribune was an evening paper, actually sort of late afternoon paper while sister paper, the Register, was delivered in the morning. After I got my bicycle I would accompany Harris on his evening route, and also on Saturday mornings when he did his collecting. It never entered my mind to try to get a paper route, somehow or other I have the impression that such an enterprise would have been viewed by disfavor by my parents. I think they tended to be too protective of their children, at least the older ones, in restricting certain activities outside the home. The attitude was particularly noticeable with regard to anything which would interfere with the religious activities and the usual Sunday routine. With respect to a paper route such conflict would occur on Sunday mornings with the delivery of the Sunday paper. Although at the time the Tribune and the Register had separate daily editions, the Sunday edition was a common one.

Harris was a congenial extrovert and we got along well as friends. Considerably taller than I and much better in his athletic abilities, Harris participate in the high school basketball team (of course this was after out family moved to the Peterson farm, when I had much less contact with him). Both Harris and his younger brother Floyd played on the University of Iowa basketball team. So Harris and I were at the university during the same time but I had no contact with him anytime I was at school there.

The local farmer who, by injected some capital into the Lindquist bank, saved it from failure during the Depression was Warner Larson. His “home” farm was located a mile north and about a mile west of the Peterson farmstead. I believe he was an immigrant but I am not sure. He was a large burly man, a prodigious worker and fiscally astute. Though strong he suffered from human frailties like all humans. I recall my uncle Carl relating the story that on one occasion he [Warner, I assume, not Carl — LS] was doing some custom mowing work for my grandfather Peterson and his mower ran into a hornet’s nest. He was stung several times, enough to make him quite ill at the time as a result.

In age he was of a generation between my grandparents and their children. I recall my mother saying she had one of the younger Larson children, Kenneth, as a student, either in the country school or in the church Sunday school. Larson’s crusty temperament was counterbalanced by that of his wife who was of a much more equitable nature. I didn’t know her well, but when I was having my encounter with appendicitis, she visited me in the hospital and left a book on Abraham Lincoln as a gift. Mrs. Larson died quite some years before her husband and I recall his lonely figure at Sunday morning services seated on the left side of the church near the front. I was a youthful usher at the time and noted that his invariable contribution was a dime. I’m sure he contributed a great deal more to the church than his weekly dime, but his token weekly contribution reflected his careful attitude toward money.

Larson gave each of his four children the title to a farm sometime in the early adult life. I think some of these farms cam by foreclosure on loans he made to less fortunate individuals at the time of the Depression. So he could be as hard-hearted as any banker should the situation arise. He was equally stern with his children. When his twins (Harris and Margaret I believe) participated (or tried to participate) in “skip” day at Gowrie High School he learned of it and sent Harris out to haul manure and told his wife that if she couldn’t keep Margaret busy to send her out to help Harris. I’m sure this story is what actually happened as I think I heard it either from Harris himself or from a reliable secondary source.

Larson himself was the very epitome of a self-made man, who thought doubtless of little education knew the value of it. He made the best use of whatever hand life had dealt him and expected his children to do likewise. I personally could not be so hard-hearted with any of my offspring. They mean too much to me.

I am reminded at this point of a colleague of mine both at SUI and at Shell. His oldest child, a girl, was I think given a college education by him and his wife (both of whom achieved their college degrees with little of no financial support from their parents). When Laura, the child, after a stint in the Peace Corps wanted to return to school to earn a degree in pharmacy my colleague friend and his wife would not help her. So she struggled to achieve her goal on her own and did.

She was a pharmacist for a while and died a rather mysterious death the circumstances of which have led me to believe her death was a suicide. During this period she had I think strained relations with her parents. Their second child, a boy, was after his college career, estranged from his parents. Only the youngest remained close to his parents and only he had any children.

My opinion of my friend is that he brought this estrangement from two of his children by his intransigent attitude. He came from a rather strict Presbyterian background and was himself dedicated to the sect and I think this influenced his conduct relative to his children. I could never do what he did, my children as so much a part and parcel of me that though they may do things I consider unwise I would not let this affect my relations with regard to them.

I have often wondered if my colleague at Shell ever looked back at his actions with respect to his children and in retrospect rued what he had done.